


Rose Tints My World

by sasstasticmad



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dancing Thor!, Fluff, M/M, Rocky Horror Geekiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:53:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasstasticmad/pseuds/sasstasticmad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony likes Steve. A lot. He just also happens to be kind of a movie geek. Shameless fluff, Domestic Avengers, and Tony wearing a corset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose Tints My World

There are many things Tony Stark finds charming about Steve Rogers. He likes the way that Steve dotes on the seeming hordes of small children that seek his autograph. He likes the way Steve thinks JARVIS is a real person and gets so filled of righteous indignation when Tony reveals that he has never given JARVIS any vacation days.

Tony is sure that Steve still thinks he's locked up a tiny well-meaning British man in a room somewhere in Stark Tower and against all odds, he finds it adorable.

Of course, he also likes the way Steve's ass looks in his skintight uniform pants after a fight with a rogue alien army or even just with a sparring session with Thor. But somehow admitting that out loud is slightly less socially acceptable.

It gets easier to forget that Steve should be living in a beachfront condo in Florida, spending his golden years sunning wrinkled skin and waxing nostalgic about the good old days. He adapts to the modern world, asking decent enough questions for someone who has spent the majority of their existence in freezer mode, taking his time off to make his way through AFI's list of celebrated movies in order to acclimatize himself to modern pop culture.

Tony swears he is never prouder than when they are catching their breath from their latest mission and just when Bruce, still all Hulked out and mildly primeval, is about to pick a slightly worse for wear Steve up and Steve, covered in grime, yells out with a smile, "Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape."

It's like watching a dog on his hind legs. Granted, it's a dog that he very much wants to tie up and do naughty things to, and it's at this point that Tony usually abandons any and all canine metaphors, but he's nearly bursting with pride and it's all he can do to keep from kissing Steve on his big stupid mouth right in the middle of what used to be a Starbucks.

Then of course, there are moments like today. Moments that nearly cause him to spit out his coffee and write an angry letter to SHIELD for failing Steve in their attempts to acclimatize him to modern life.

"The Rocky Horror Picture Show" is a cinematic gem, '' he says, staring at Steve, mouth nearly to the floor. "It is a testament to the wonder of mankind, how have you not seen it?"

Of course Steve does not seem nearly as apologetic as this breach of protocol merits. He merely shrugs his shoulders and continues the ritualistic devouring of what seems to be every single Cheerio in Stark Tower.

''It's just a movie," he replies after swallowing his latest spoonful, because of course national icons don't talk with their mouth full, "I'll watch it eventually."

"I don't think you understand," Tony tells him, '' It is a veritable feast for the senses. It changes lives, Steve. Lives are changed by its beauty.''

Steve just smiles at this, looking like a parent delightfully amused at their child's pleas for a puppy "If it's really as good as you are claiming it is, I'll watch it before bed tonight. ''

"One does not simply 'watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show before bed', captain, '' Tony booms, but Steve hasn't entirely caught up with modern cinema so this treasure of a reference is wasted. ''It is an experience complete with toast and fishnets.''

Steve shrugs his shoulders again. ''Didn't think you need toast to watch a movie," and Tony nearly grins himself to death because Captain America would of course be the one to have a problem with non-traditional movie foods, but he lets the idea slide for the time being.

To the detriment of the team, Steve ends up gathering them all together to watch "The Sound of Music'' in the Tower's media room later that evening. ''Sixteen Going On Seventeen" lingers in Tony's head for days and it isn't until Natasha threatens to castrate him that he stops singing it under his breath while working.

Clint, however, is apparently allowed to sing Rogers and Hammerstein, if the lack of audible castration threats is an indication. Tony blames it on office politics. That and Clint can actually sing.

\--

After a week of fairly uneventful villain activity, the occasional 3 am prank call aside, and numerous mental images involving a certain super soldier and a shiny gold speedo, Tony decides to take matters into his own hands.

They are piled up once again in the Tower's media room in what seems to be turning into a weekly occurrence, watching a movie that Steve hasn't seen. Tonight's film is ''Grease'' and Tony can only help but wonder why most of Steve's selections seem to involve people spontaneously singing and dancing but the slight look of horror on Steve's face as John Travolta calls his car a pussy wagon is too amusing to pass up.

"I thought the '50's were supposed to be nicer?" Steve asks. His face is still glued to the screen as if his focus will change the film's choice of vocabulary. "I don't remember high school being anything like this."

As if the blush quickly appearing on his face isn't any indication.

"Captain, I request your silence," Thor says, voice booming over the now inaudible vocals of Frankie Avalon, "I want to see if the mighty T-Birds best their rival clan in a chariot race."

Steve gives an apologetic nod and leans back against the lush leather of the couch, shoulder grazing Tony's as he settles himself back down for what is probably going to be a long awkward movie night. Tony momentarily gives a silent prayer to the god of too small couches, mentally willing Thor to thank him his next time in Asgard. They are close enough where he can smell Steve now, which seems much creepier than it actually is, and it's all Tony can do to keep from licking the juncture between his neck and his shoulder, just crawling up into him and pressing his nose against the skin.

For the sake of truth, justice, and the American Way, he restrains himself. There's probably some sort of draconian punishment for terrifying national icons and he gets the feeling the excuse of "But he's really handsome and I want to do sex things with him" will hold up in a court of law about as well as his own lingering resolve.

They all sit in near silence for the rest of the movie; they've learned the hard way that when Thor gets invested in a movie, there is nearly literal hell to pay for interruptions. The newly repaired coffee table that was destroyed when Tony made a poorly timed 'Luke, I am your father' joke as they were wrapping up Episode IV is proof. Sometimes being the resident smartass just isn't worth it, especially when it induces top rate hammer damage on what was once a prized antique.

When Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta have magically flown off into the sunset and Bruce has informed Thor that flying cars aren't nearly as common as the film makes them out to be, Tony lets the cat out of the bag.

"You know," he begins, voice cracking a little from lack of use, " Steve hasn't seen "The Rocky Horror Picture Show."

The look of horror that falls on Clint's face as he turns around from in front of the coffee table to glare at Steve quite possibly makes the horribleness of the situation worth it.

"And I thought it was great when it all began, '' Bruce murmurs to nobody in particular, taking another sip of what appears to be tea but what might very well be opium, settling against the leather of his unofficial movie night chair.

"Had no idea you were a regular Frankie fan, Bruce,'' Clint rattles off quickly adopting a high-pitched voice before glaring at Steve, "How have you not seen that movie, Captain?'' He snaps his fingers as he points at Thor, who is looking down at the situation with the same oblivious bemusement that he wears during most domestic squabbles, ''Thor has seen that movie and he's technically a fucking alien."

"Darcy took it upon herself to show me this film,'' he tells the group as a whole when their eyes all turn to him, "Many mortals at the theatre gave great praise to my armor although it is not Transylvanian as they claim.''

''If Steve doesn't want to see the movie," Natasha begins, voice cool and calm, " he doesn't have to." And for a moment, Steve looks insanely relieved to have an ally in his quest to avoid anything that is not entirely politically correct. "He should just realize that I have killed people for less." She pivots her head towards his, serious as a heart attack. "It really is a spectacular film.''

"This is my point, mon capitan," Tony says, leaning over to face Steve, still silently bewildered that super secret sexy spy duties leave time to Time Warp it up, ''It is a cinematic gem and frankly it is a testament to its beauty that you now have five of the world's greatest heroes disgusted at your lack of culture."

Steve pulls his knees up to his chest, clearly embarrassed at the attention, muttering something that Tony can't pick up.

"What was that, my dear Mr. Rogers?" Tony asks, cupping a hand to his ear. "I'm afraid not all present have fancy schmancy hearing."

Steve lifts his head grudgingly. "I will watch the movie. Can you guys just drop it?"

Tony smirks a little. " You made the right call. We're watching it tomorrow, gang," he says with a sense of authority he's not really sure he has considering he's the only one in the room that doesn't have the ability to kill someone just using their fists. "Costumes are mandatory."

"Costumes?" Steve asks. "Like Halloween?"

"Exactly like Halloween, captain," Natasha replies with a tone that in anyone else could be classified as amusement. '' I'll get you all sorted out."

\--

The first time Tony sees ''The Rocky Horror Picture Show", he is 16 and he is dragged to the midnight showing with whatever girl he was attempting sleep with at the time.

It is his first year at MIT, he already gets enough flack for being short and rich and obnoxious (well, he probably deserves the shit he gets for the last one considering his particular brand of annoying is all him) and when they, he and the girl whose name he can't even remember anymore, arrive at the theatre to find a whole heap of people wearing ridiculous costumes, he nearly just ups and bolts.

But this girl, and while he can't even remember her name, he remembers that she was smoking hot, all legs and curves and promises of nasty things being done to him, she grabs his hand and drags him into the theatre, assuring him that the movie is good and that he should probably stop being such a dick about it.

Of course, she had said this in what was meant to be a flirtatious manner and given that Tony at the time was 1) a sixteen year old boy and 2) a virgin, it works. They sat towards the back of the theatre just as the lights were about to dim and by the time they come up again nearly two hours later, Tony learns two very important things about himself.

The first is that he decides then and there that he is definitely building a ray to turn people into statues lest they incur his all-powerful anger.

The second is that he might be the slightest bit gay if the way he appreciates Brad over Janet seems to be any indication.

Later, in the living room of his first apartment, he tells the first revelation to the girl and she laughs and pulls him in for a kiss and palms him in his jeans and it feels fan fucking tastic, but nobody but JARVIS ever hears about the second.

Not even Rhodey after drinking too many shots. Not even Pepper when she looks at him for what seems to be the millionth time with the same tired expression and tells him that she'll always be there. "No matter what," she says, gripping his hand and kissing his cheek just after she's finished cleaning up another one of his messes.

 _She hasn't lied about that so far,_ Tony thinks to himself as he digs through his closet the next evening when looking for the appropriate footwear for his costume. They've been "not a couple" for a few months now and even then she still calls him every few days to check up on him, to make sure he's eating and every once in a while asking pointed questions about Steve, like she knows.

Pepper probably does know because she is Pepper and she is still on this pedestal in his mind even if she was the one to have the stones to end it. It's because she is this magical kind of being that Tony is only the slightest bit miffed at her for being able to read minds. It just comes with the territory.

But Tony doesn't have the time today to be nostalgic for Pepper. She is doing great things and if he really wants to annoy the shit out of her, he can always call her later. Instead, he tightens the laces on the corset he made a very embarrassed Rhodey buy with him one time back in the good old days and slips on the cape that is all but required when pretending to be Frank-N-Furter.

After he's done putting on blue eye shadow that was most likely left by some one night stand from ages ago, he struts in front of the full body mirror in the bathroom, taking in every inch.

 _Still pretty spry_ , he decides, taking in the heels and goatee. His legs are still pretty decent and a steady diet of coffee and whatever Steve can guilt him into eating has kept him fairly trim. He'll never be an Adonis, that isn't his bit anyhow, but he's still got it. Mostly.

Last March, when all of the Avengers gang was dragged to the Kid's Choice Awards, he still got a few appreciative glances from the audience even with Thor and Captain "My Ass is Fantastic and I am also Adorable" in the room. Although to be fair, most of the appreciative looks were from the mothers not the teenage daughters, but Tony has no problem with older women.

Or men considering that most of the reason he is dolled up like some back-alley hooker is for Steve.

''What do you think, JARVIS?" He asks, completing a turn for show even if he knows JARVIS sees everything even before he asks.

"Delightful as always, sir," he replies, voice dry and humorless, " I am sure you will be the belle of the ball."

Tony smirks, taking a minute to wipe off a smudge of red lipstick from his mustache. "Aren't I always though?"

"Of course,'' is the response because of course Tony didn't program a reassuring AI, that would be too practical. "Everyone else is waiting in the media room. It's probably best if you make an appearance sooner rather than later. Mr. Barton, for one is getting very impatient.''

"Tell Clint to stop getting his panties in a twist. I'll be down in a minute." And with one last self-congratulatory look at his legs in fishnets and heels, Tony begins a wobbly strut down to the media room, hoping sincerely that Natasha was strict about the costume requirements.

\--

''So good of you to join us, Stark," Clint says as he notices Tony entering the room. ''Would have hated to interrupt your busy schedule of doing nothing."

"I don't have time to associate with you riff-raff," Tony replies, but he can't but grin at the sheer spectacle that his teammates have become. "Get it? Riff-Raff…"

"I got it, loud and clear," Clint says, pointing at the stringy blond wig on top of his head. "Don't think Tasha really went all out though," he says, acknowledging her presence at the end of the bar with a tilt of his head, " She already had the maid outfit."

"And a naughty librarian," she adds from her perch on the counter, ''but this was more fitting for the evening's festivities."

''Do we know where Steve is?" Tony asks, finally giving in to the throbbing pain now being inflicted on his ankles and leaning against the back of the couch. His heels are kind of brilliant but comfortable they are not.

"Said he had to run upstairs," Bruce says, already in his chair, this time with a blanket on his lap and wearing a sweater instead of a loose button down. "Seemed a little nervous.''

"Costumes are mandatory, Bruce," Tony adds, taking in his fairly mundane outfit, "As evidenced by my spectacular attire."

"Didn't really want to look for a wheelchair. A recliner is close enough," he replies, taking another sip of tea, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

''Lazy ass Dr. Scott, I can dig it. And I take it you are Eddie?" Tony says pointing at Thor who he does have to admit looks pretty authentic as a biker all clad in leather.

''He was a noble sacrifice to the Transylvanian hoard," Thor says solemnly, "He was a man who would do anything for love. It is a valiant life he lived."

Normally, Tony would be having the geek out of his life over failed pop culture connections and the fact that four of the five people he spends around 85% of his time with have no problem putting on themed costumes on a moment's notice, but he's too busy waiting for Steve.

 _Oh god,_ he thinks as he sips from the flask Clint's just offered him, despite the fact that there is a goddamn bar right in the corner, _he's going to think I'm some sort of deviant._ Which in Tony's defense seems to be a legitimate freak out to have as he's currently wearing fishnets and garters and Steve is nowhere in sight, probably hiding from the scary transvestites in the safety of his Stark issued room.

But even in his attempts to drain every bit of whisky from Clint's flask, Tony recognizes the weighty thump of Captain-sized footsteps coming down the stairs and when Steve finally enters through the door of the media room, he's fairly certain the Hallelujah chorus is playing.

Because Steve is Brad.

He's wearing a blue sweater over a collared shirt with old man pants that Tony is fairly certain Steve actually owned before he was bullied into suiting up with the rest of them but of course the outfit only adds to his charm. The shirt's a little too small like everything Steve ends up buying for himself and the pants highlight the strong muscles of his legs. But it's the glasses that really do it for Tony. They make him look like the good old-fashioned boy he is and Tony just wants to smear lipstick all over him, wants to see if he's so pure all the way down to the skin.

''Natasha said this was probably the best costume for me," Steve admits sheepishly, somehow ignoring the flurry of cartoon hearts pouring from Tony's eyes. "Any particular reason for the get-up, Tony?" He asks, taking in the outfit that makes Tony look positively ghastly compared to his apple pie and clean living Brad.

"Frank-N-Furter invents. So do I," he replies, "It seemed like a natural progression.''

"Well at least I'm not the only one who has underwear as part of their costume," Steve says brightly and before Tony even has time to process that fully, Steve moves to plop down in his usual spot on the couch. "So we gonna start the movie?"

\--

Tony doesn't look over once at Steve during the movie.

It's not that he's worried that Steve will be horrified and refuse to come within a twenty foot radius of him, it's more the fact that he's wearing those damn glasses and looks like every schoolboy fantasy Tony could ever dream of and the very last thing Tony wants to do in the middle of the film is start drooling over a guy who is just trying to do his American duty by watching every important film known to man.

The experience seems to go well. Thor almost ends up taking out Bruce's eye while trying to explain the Time Warp to Steve. "It's very simple, my comrade," he says, clearly excited to know more about one minute element of Midgardian culture than Steve, ''Once you have bent your knees in tight, it is now time for a thrust of the pelvis," and he thrusts just a little too happily, but luckily for all parties involved, accidentally having god junk thrust in your face doesn't seem to trigger the Other Guy.

But other than that, it goes pretty well. They forge an easy rhythm, singing along in the right places and Steve doesn't even comment on the depravity of the film.

Tony figures Steve's spent enough time with Clint that even a massive pool orgy can't be that horrifying. At least, he hopes so considering that is still on his bucket list.

But once the movie's over, Thor gives out a yawn that nearly rumbles the speakers and everyone takes it as their cue to go to bed. Sleepy reassurances of "Good night'', "See you tomorrow", and "No, I will not be wearing my sexy librarian costume anytime soon" are made and most of the gang heads to their respective bedrooms, leaving Tony to move awkwardly to the kitchen to drink another cup of coffee and deliberate whether it is safe to move down to the lab when dressed in stilettos.

After kicking off his heels in the middle of the floor because really there is only so long he can stand the pain, Tony's rooting through the cabinet trying to find a decent sized mug, preferably giant, when he hears Steve from the edge of the hall.

"The movie was something else.''

Of course, Steve is still wearing his Brad costume minus the glasses so when Tony turns around to smirk triumphantly, he gets all flustered in a way that he hasn't in ages, probably ever.

"I told you, Captain, '' Tony says, finally just abandoning his quest for caffeine and leaning against the marble of the counter, looking directly at Steve, ''it's a treasure of a film. What other movie has aliens, transvestites, and Susan Sarandon?''

''Can't say there are many. None that I've seen at least,'' Steve answers, "I did like Rocky though."

"Would have figured you'd be more of a Janet fan," is the only response Tony can think of. Steve should love Janet. Tony's seen pictures of Peggy back in the day and there's a certain hardy loveliness that the both of them seem to share.

''She's nice enough but I just feel bad for Rocky,'' Steve continues, eyes meeting Tony's, ''Only gets a few hours to live his new life and ends up getting taken away from the people he cares about.''

''Pretty deep analysis for a character that can't talk.'' Even with an enormous crush, Tony can't take this seriously. Whose favorite character is Rocky? Everyone's default favorite is Frank-N-Furter for a reason. And that reason is that he is spectacular.

Steve just gives him this exasperated look. ''He's still got feelings, Tony. Experiments have them sometimes," and for a moment, there is only silence as Steve looks down at his feet and Tony looks anywhere but at Steve.

"Oh god I am truly horrible," Tony thinks to himself but after a moment, he finally speaks, mostly just to end the silence because if there's one thing Tony Stark hates more than guilt trips, it is awkward silences. They remind him of family dinners, back before he had this glorified frat house to live in.

''You know, when I first saw ''Rocky Horror'', I had a massive crush on Brad.''

Steve's head snaps up almost immediately, a confused look on his now red face, but he doesn't say anything, which is a good as sign as any for Tony to continue.

"I thought he was adorable which being a 16 year old boy scared the shit out of me," he adds, taking a tentative step towards Steve, '' but you know, it's still scary now. I mean, you're the first person other than JARVIS who knows about it.''

"Really?" Steve asks, puzzled expression fading from his face.

"I have no filter, why would I lie?'' Tony asks but he remembers that there was an actual point to this that he is quickly forgetting with every quick glance at Steve. ''Anyhow, emotions are these big scary things for me. They always will be because I am a Stark and failure to emote properly is our genetic legacy. It just happens, I say horrible things and alienate everybody I love because I am kind of a horrible person…''

''You aren't horrible, Tony," Steve interrupts, voice steady and reassuring like the human equivalent of a hug but Tony presses on

''The peanut gallery's opinion doesn't count in this rant, Steve," he replies, holding up a finger to indicate that he's not done embarrassing himself. "All I am trying to say is that I am emotionally challenged… '' Tony takes a deep breath, letting a sigh eke out before staring determinedly down at his feet and with a casual Might as well, he begins again, "And as a result, despite the fact that I like you in a 'like like' sort of fashion, I am a complete douchebag."

"You like me?" Steve asks slowly, as if he is unable to process the idea.

"A lot,'' he says firmly because well it is true and Steve seems like the sort of person who will at least deal with awkward unrequited adoration with gentle good humor and if the bright smile on his face is any indication, Tony at least didn't terrify him like he thought he would.

"I like you too, Tony," Steve says earnestly and sure enough, that is probably true too because the only people Steve doesn't like are Nazis and telemarketers that call during mealtimes

"No, I like you," he stress, ''Like I possibly want to kiss your face and also other places in a variety of different ways."

"I know what you meant, Tony," Steve says, bridging the gap between the two, his face only inches away from Tony's makeup covered one, "Contrary to popular belief, people were having sex in the 1940's.''

''Didn't think you were one of them, Captain," Tony answers, still frozen in his spot because holy shit, Steve is moving to close the gap in between them and his eyes are closing and it's like some sort of romantic comedy compared to the pile of crazy that is his life.

"Typically this is the point where you stop talking," Steve mutters and before Tony can even reply with something that can be construed as witty, Steve's mouth is covering his and even he can get a hint this obvious.

The kiss starts off slow. For all of his confidence in the lead in, Steve takes his time, his movements careful and deliberate and for once in his life, Tony isn't in much of a hurry to get to the end point because it's kind of amazing standing in his kitchen just kissing Steve, savoring the feel of his lips, the way his hands are wrapped gently around Tony's back like he's kind of afraid to break him.

He feels like a teenager breaking curfew and part of him, the pragmatic part that isn't kissing Steve back, hands slid up underneath his shirt, is still kind of worried that this is some beautiful dream and in the morning he's going to wake up to find himself sprawled on the bathroom floor with a gaping head wound.

But they kiss for what seems like ages until Tony starts losing feeling in his lips and Steve's hands are no longer as proper as the rest of him and have drifted to cup his ass through the cheap fabric of his costume. Tony can't help but letting out a soft groan and Steve, the filthy tease that he is, pulls away, resting his forehead against Tony's, hands running up and down Tony's arms.

"I like you,'' Steve murmurs, briefly kissing the tip of Tony's nose before moving his face back and looking at him with an abnormally serene smile plastered on for someone who looks thoroughly debauched. "I like you a lot, Tony.''

Tony gives a hint of smirk, giving Steve a quick peck before leaning back against his forehead, just taking in a moment to breathe Steve's scent, the mixture of cologne and a bit of sweat and something purely Steve that he wishes he could bottle up and use as a spray. "Earlier,'' he says with a hint of bravado that he doesn't really have, "you said your costume had underwear too."

Even with his eyes down to the floor, he can feel Steve smiling. "Natasha said I'd need them," he says, dropping his hands to his belt, undoing it quickly and pulling down the waist of his ironed khakis to reveal just a hint of the final perfect bit of his costume.

It's a shimmering gold speedo that looks it was stolen right out of a castle in a forest and the only proper response that Tony can think of is to pull Steve back in for another lengthy make out session.

\--

He has never been so happy to see a pair of underwear in his entire life.


End file.
